Day Eighteen

An Ethdegves Dedh

De Gwener ew, an nownjegves a vis Genver. Üdn jorna yeyn ha gwenjek moy. Nag ewa da genam ha nag ew da gen an kei. Nag ew da gen agan diw gath naneyl.
It’s Friday, the 19th January. One more cold and windy day. I don’t like it and the dog doesn’t like it. Our two cats don’t like it either.
Lebmyn ma’n kei o còsca e’n parledh, ma üdn gath o còsca e’n gegin ha ma’n gath aral o còsca war an stayrys. Da ew ganjans oll boas cles (klys). Res ew dhen perthy co erghi oyl moy rag an jynn tobma.
Now the dog is sleeping in the parlour, one cat is sleeping in the kitchen and the other cat is sleeping on the stairs. They all like to be cosy. We must remember to order more oil for the heater.
Na wrüga vy moas mes de, na wrüga vy moas mes hedhyw ha na wra vy moas mes avorow. Rag fra na? (Prag na?) Clàv oma. Therama o pasa heb lett. A wra vy moas mes trenja? Piw or? (Piw a wor?)
I did not go out yesterday, I did not go out today and I will not go out tomorrow. Why not? I’m ill. I am coughing incessantly. Will I go out the day after tomorrow? Who knows?
Diswaytys o vy dhe fillel a’n disqwedhyans liwya newher. Me a vedh trist dhe fillel a’n lavarow avorow adro dhe dhisqwedhyanjow dhe weles a Gernow.
I was disappointed to miss the painting demonstration last night. I shall be sad to miss the talks tomorrow about visual representations of Cornwall.


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